


Sunset

by napoleonboneaparte



Series: The Winter Wolf and the Howling Arrow (Thane x River) [2]
Category: Armello (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Blood and Violence, Break Up, Childhood Friends, Friends to Enemies, Love/Hate, Lovers, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/napoleonboneaparte/pseuds/napoleonboneaparte
Summary: As the King's madness becomes apparent and the Great Clans prepare to make their bid for control over the Kingdom of Armello, two childhood friends are forced to drift apart by circumstances beyond their control.





	Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set right before Thane's prologue. I'd imagine Thane and River's ages to be about 20 or 21.

“And what about Thane?”

Even through the chaotic cacophony of cheers and howls of laughter that shook the tavern’s very foundations, the Ranger could still hear the hushed whispers in which the Winter Wolf’s name was mentioned. Her curiosity piqued, she subtly turned on her bar stool to see the two figures huddled around the fireplace, the flickering flames silhouetting their statures. 

Donned in the ornate armour of the Iron Guard, the two had their backs turned toward her, obviously oblivious that they had just caught the unwanted attention of one suspicious Ranger. Their signature great shields had been slung across their backs. They sat relaxed, warming their paws at the hearth. Knowing that she ought to get closer to catch more of their conversation, the Ranger silently rose with ale-filled tankard in hand to seek a more strategic position. As she slipped through the tables of rowdy customers, the curious glances of not a few were captured by the hooded figure.

As she got within earshot of the shield maidens, she gestured to a seat opposite a grouchy-looking cat who sat alone at its corner table. Its nose buried deeply in its book, the cat barely afforded her a glance before nodding its head. As the Ranger took her seat and put up a pretence of passing out on the table, one of the guards, a hulking lady with a chipped ear, replied to her comrade’s query. 

“What about the sumph? Am I supposed to give a rat’s arse about that Greymane dolt?” growled Chipped-Ear.

Her white-furred friend chuckled in agreement. “Haven’t you noticed? He’s absent from Blackspire. Been so for a few days now. They say he’s been dispatched to the border by the Den Mother.”

“Oh, Rot damn her. You don’t think…”

White-Fur grunted. “To think that she expects us to one day kneel before the twit. Worse still, as a King! Kings are supposed to command respect, are they not? I wouldn’t even let the fool polish my shield even if I so desired!” As if to emphasise her point, the lady spat onto the floor.

“Bloody Greymanes. Their star lost its shine a long time ago. Sure, Fang could have been a decent Alpha, but look what has become of him. Raving madder than a rabid rabbit; Thunder’s blood on his hands. And now, we’re left with the runt of the brood. Mark my words; the Clan will be the laughing stock of the Kingdom when it becomes known that we sent out an imbecile to contest the crown.”

“To the fool’s credit, he’s no slouch when it comes to battle.”

“True,” Chipped-Ear admitted begrudgingly, her lips curling with blatant disgust. “But that’s all he’s good for. Neither the Clan nor the Kingdom has any further need for warriors. A strong hand is what we need! Someone to return order to this land. A true King!”

“Or a Queen…”

The Ranger stiffened as she began to realise she knew where exactly the conversation was heading. Right on cue, Chipped-Ear leaned in closer to her companion. 

“ _ She’s _ not going to challenge the Den Mother, is she?” she whispered.

“Are you daft?” snorted White-Fur. “She won’t risk such an overt display of defiance and risk a civil war. No. Crown in hand first, then off to the negotiating table. Even the Den Mother would know better than to defy royal authority.”

“Her Royal Highness, Queen Magna. I suppose we’ll get to replace those Oakenfall hounds then, aye? That’d be quite the promotion, if I may say so myself. Anyway, better her on the throne any other day than that Greymane dimwit.”

“True, true. Do you think that – “

Without warning, Chipped-Ear’s hand suddenly shot up to silence her friend’s question. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I am a fool. We have had unwanted ears and eyes prying on us this whole time; rude as it is to spy on your own clanswomen. Is that not right, Ranger?” fumed the Shield Maiden coldly as she rose and turned to face the Ranger who immediately dropped the act and stood to face her opponents. 

The deafening racket of the tavern came to an abrupt halt as patrons turned to see the two Iron Guards raising their shields. The barmaid raised her hand as if to object the impending violence but realised that she was in no position to do so. The vixen fled through the back door, as did the many patrons with their own self-preservation in mind. The braver ones hanged about with the hopes of catching a free show, though they did so behind the cover of the bar counters.

Seemingly unperturbed by the commotion, the Ranger raised her hands to her hood before pulling it down. There was a sharp gasp from among the spectators followed by hushed murmurs of ‘The Howling Arrow’ and ‘The Huntress’. River, Ranger of the Veil, showed no fear as she faced off with her Iron Guard opponents. While lacking in terms of brawn, she was not of unremarkable stature herself. A figure of both beauty and ferocity. She stood firm and tall, amber eyes staring coldly across the room; all while calmly drawing her hunting knife and retrieving her bow that had been strapped across her back. 

Weapons at the ready, she finally spoke. “You speak treasonous words.”

“Treason?!” growled Chipped-Ear through clenched teeth. “Our blood would be willingly spilt for the Clan if necessary, but to be expected to sit on our haunches while the Greymane brat lead us to ruin?! We serve the Wolf Clan to our dying breath. Who do you serve? You would be a fool to pledge your allegiance to him, whelp. But to say that I’m surprised by your allegiance to the Greymanes, would be a lie.”

“Especially considering your history with him,” added White-Fur with a cynical smile. “And if the rumours are true, your romps.”

River’s face darkened. “Paying heed to malarkey is a little unbecoming for an Iron Guard, is it not?”

“Watch your tongue, upstart!” roared Chipped-Ear. “While you were still sucking off your mother’s teat, we - Oh, wait. That couldn’t have been for long, could it?”

For a brief moment, River could feel her fur bristling in pure rage at the baleful laughter that followed. Still, as hard as it was, she retained her composure. A display of emotion was inappropriate in front of the enemy, a sign of weakness and vulnerability.

As the laughter died down, Chipped-Ear glowered at the Ranger once more. “You, little fool. The crown will be safe in the hands of Captain Magna, as will the Clan and the Kingdom as a whole. To stand against her is stand against the Clan.”

“Self-flattery? Pathetic.” noted River sarcastically. “For if she represents the Clan, why is it that you plot in the shadows like a Rat skulking for victims? Magna has neither the blessing of the Clan nor the Wyld. You lambaste Thane for his obtuseness, yet she has little to show herself; her claim to the crown even more spurious than his. To pass your treachery as an act of loyalty to the Clan is nothing more than an utter affront to the honour of all Wolves.”

Chipped-Ear gritted her teeth. “Insolent upstart! I had considered leaving you alive albeit without your sharp tongue, but I see it’s for the best that your head goes too!”

An arrow was notched onto the Ranger’s bow. “Don’t expect a fair fight.”

White-Fur sniggered derisively as she and Chipped-Ear began advancing forward. “You Rangers are nothing to the Iron Guard. Your arrows won’t even leave the slightest mark in our shields.”

River nodded. “It’s not the shields I’m aiming for.” Without warning, she drew her bow and let loose. Her arrow found its mark, cutting cleanly through the chain that kept the tavern’s chandelier suspended. A terrified cry followed by a sickening crunch was all that River heard before a roar of outrage shook the tavern. Tables and stools were toppled over as Chipped-Ear barreled her way toward River, her shield spike pointed menacingly at River. 

River tightened her grasp around her knife’s hilt. It was a weapon she had been long familiarised with, having started its service the moment she enlisted herself among the Rangers of the Veil. It had drawn the blood of trolls, ogres, assassins, bandits and as of now, soldiers. 

The Iron Guard piled on blow after blow, sending River staggering for balance. Knowing that her opponent was attempting to stun her and leave her vulnerable, River dodged repeatedly with almost dainty gracefulness. However,  even she was finding it difficult to land in a decisive blow of her own. Locked together in a dance of death, the two Wolves wrestled for control, flinging themselves at each other with the ferocity befitting of lupine-kind and looking desperately for any openings in their opponent’s defences. It was only through pure luck that in a rage, Chipped-Ear rushed forward and attempted to slam her shield down on River’s feet, giving just enough time for River to make a feint to her right. Noticing the rapidly closing window of opportunity, River threw herself forward and let momentum slam her knife deep into the unarmoured pits of her opponent’s shield arm. 

Howling in agony as her armour was painted with a wet coat of scarlet, the Iron Guard collapsed onto her knees, her shield arm rendered completely useless. With smouldering eyes, she cursed through clenched teeth, “Rot take you to the damned pit of the Worm! What purpose does my death serve? Deny it all you want, but the Greymane fool will fail and fall in his quest for the crown. Then, who else but Captain Magna will deliver the laurels of victory into our hands!”

Breathing deeply, River thought for a moment before replying earnestly, “Strength of arms will not be enough to carry the day. To put this chaos to an end, shrewdness serves just as well as any sword or shield. There remains only one among our Clan who can carry this burden.”

“And who would that be?”

River hesitated at giving an answer. As the Iron Guard breathed her last and collapsed onto the pool of her own blood, River picked her hood off the dusty floor. Bruised and battered, she staggered out of the tavern, having left a small bag of crowns as compensation to the unfortunate fox whose establishment was close to collapse after the ruinous ruckus. Without another word, she disappeared into the night’s shadows; her path, plan and purpose known to no one but herself.

* * *

 

Close to the border wall between the Wolf Clan’s t erritories and the King’s land, there stood atop a hill an ancient oak tree. It had been there long before the construction of the wall, long before the King’s arrival. It could even have been a mere sapling when the Wolf Clan was first formed so many countless moons ago. In any case, it was now a mighty tree that had seen much for its lifetime. And now, its shady boughs were serving the circle of wolf and dog pups that sat beneath it as a refuge from the searing summer sun. In the centre of this circle was a Prince who had bitten off more than he could chew the moment he raised the slightest suggestion of sharing his stories with the children.

“And then what happened?”

By this point, Thane was starting to feel a little guilty about over-embellishing his tales of adventure to his audience of cubs, but that unmistakable glimmer of unbridled excitement in their bright eyes told him that there was no going back now. To them, he was a glorious hero whom to their knowledge had fought off Banes, sorcerers, assassins and bandits; sometimes with nothing but his bare fists. He could not afford to disappoint them, so he chose to play his part accordingly.

With an air of forced and false bravado, he leapt to his feet and whipped out his sword, lifting it into the air. The runes on the magnificent blade glowed as Thane continued his tall tale. 

“And then, the Mad Buck turned around to face me. Malapert, upstart cad!’ he roared as he towered over me. Mind you, he may have been an ancient geezer, but I could tell he could pack a punch if he wanted to. Never a great idea to underestimate these bunnies. And in any case, he was most out for my blood. From under his cape, he then drew his weapon.”

A hand shot up all of a sudden. “A sword?” asked a curious cub.

Thane grimaced before beckoning the cub to put his hand down. “Umm, yes, I was getting to that. It was no sword. It was a strange tube of iron with its end attached to a pike. I was still comprehending this new threat when the buck slammed his weapon into the ground and before I knew, a thunderous roar shook the air.”

“The weapon shot lightning?”

“Oh, thank the Wyld that wasn’t the case! It was a dangerous weapon indeed! A weapon that could outmatch any bow. I was thrown to the ground, a hot ball of lead having slammed into my chest. If not for the saving grace of my armour, there wouldn’t be much of me left. I had no time to dawdle though; for the buck then came at me relentlessly. He fought well, but I fought better. Each thrust, I dodged. Each strike, I parried.” As Thane told his tale, he performed some rudimentary sword tricks for his young audience, much to their delight. 

“And then?” the cubs demanded enthusiastically.

“Oh. You should have been there to hear it. Having exhausted their patience, the old codger let out a terrifying roar that shook the sky. They charged at me, slicing the air with his pike. I stood firm, put my faith in my sword and waited to receive him.”

“Sounds plausible enough,” muttered River, sarcasm dripping from her maw. “If it was true at all.”

“River! What a surprise to see you...too…” As Thane spun round to greet his childhood friend, the chatterbox of a wolf fell speechless when he laid his eyes on the Ranger of the Veil who waited quietly, her cloak fluttering in a gentle breeze. With warpaint adorned around her powerful upper arms, feathers behind her ear and  her steely eyes, River posed an intimidating figure exuding a sense of strictness. Yet, those same eyes had an uncharacteristic look this day. That of unhappy consternation.

“Children,” said River. “Forgive the interruption, but I desire a parley with the Prince. Now. Alone.”

Thane shook his head, chuckling heartily, “Oh, River. Surely somewhere deep in that frozen wasteland that is your heart  you have some warmth that you would certainly not make me leave these poor, poor cubs hanging.”

Looking as though she was about to say something in protest but hesitated when she caught at glance at the crowd of young eyes looking up at her anxiously. She shook her head and muttered, “Sorry. Truly.”

A chorus of disappointment and mutterings of ‘spoilsport’ arised from the pups but a sharp glare from the Ranger was enough to send them scampering onto their feet and running back to their mothers. As soon as the dust had settled, Thane turned to her, resting his back against the great oak before saying, “Well, you most certainly let them down.”

“There are more important things at hand.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve come here on social call, then? Maybe you’ve come down to just to see me off and wish me well?”

River shook her head. 

“I don’t think we’ve talked for a while, have we? I mean, the last time we did, you’d just returned from Esterdale. And then...my father...You attended the funeral at least, but I was in the cortege and couldn’t speak to you.”

“I’m sorry,” mumbled River. “About your father. And Fang.”

The wolf’s face was etched with sorrow when the disturbing memories of that dark day came surging back through his mind. He had shed enough tears for his father, but when his thoughts came to his brother, his mind strayed. Patricide was a heinous, unforgivable act; Fang got off lightly with being merely disinherited and exiled. Still though, Thane was holding onto the faint hope that his brother could one day be saved from the Rot’s clutches.

“Victims of the Rot, both of them,” spoke Thane, after a long silence. “It was little strange, seeing the servants seal Fang’s chambers. Like it was never there. Like he was never there. He was the Winter Wolf, the next Alpha. I looked up to him, wanted to be like him. And now, he’s gone. All that they expected him to be, they now expect me to be. The runt of the litter, now to be both Alpha  _ and  _ King.”

“A heavy burden,” noted River.

“Still, what else can I do but carry it anyway? I’m the Winter Wolf, I can’t fail my family now. Nor the Clan.” Thane then chuckled. “I’m a prince after all, of course I should be King.”

“No, you shouldn’t.”

“What?” said Thane, perplexed.

“You’re not fit to be King.”

“River, surely you must jest?” Thane’s nervous smile slowly dissipated as it began to dawn upon him that River was staring at him coldly. Perhaps this was an uncharacteristic joke she was trying to play on him, he tried to assure himself in vain. “You can’t really mean that?” he asked uneasily.

Closing her eyes and sighing, River shook her head. “Every word of it. You have your strengths, Thane, I will not deny that. It’d be a lie nonetheless to say that you have the wits and acumen for kingship.”

Thane could barely stop himself reflexively baring his fangs. If not for the fact that it was River who was before him, his sword would have been long drawn. Beneath the rising and boiling tide of fury though was the feeling of a heart being struck down by hammer blows. “And you came all the way out here just to insult me? Seems rather low even for you.”

River stared at him witheringly. “You’re not worth my time. The crown should not fall into your hands simply due to the virtue of bloodlines.”

“If that was indeed the case,” snarled Thane. “who then is worthy enough to go in my place?” 

River said nothing. Her silence informed Thane of her answer.

Thane did not respond. He could not. All this time, throughout his life, he had been told time and time again that the loyalty of Wolf Clan was without parallel throughout the Kingdom, that each pack member would willingly lay down their life for the Clan and its Alpha. Yet, the revelation of just how many knives had been drawn behind his back was now staring him in the face. The purported loyalty of the pack was nothing more than a facade. They were no different from the Rats.  _ She  _ was no different from a Rat. At least the vermin had the decency to openly relish in their treacherous tendencies.

“Thane, I will offer this once only.” River’s tone softened as she placed her hand on Thane’s shoulder. “Go home. Secure your place as Alpha. Your inheritance is under threat. Leave the King to me. That is all I ask.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“I do.”

“Then, why ask?”

“A vain hope.”

The burning disc that was the Sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, its dying rays painting the sky with a fiery red. “You said that my inheritance is under threat. What did you mean by that?”

“Magna intends on usurping your quest for the crown. She readies herself as we speak. Should the throne fall to her, the time of the Greymanes will certainly be at its end.”

Thane laughed bitterly. “And you differ from her how?” 

“I do not desire the Throne of Bones. Once the King has fallen to my arrow, the return of peace and order to the Kingdom is all I seek. If I don’t end his madness, who will?”

“I will,” insisted Thane stubbornly. “Many a great warrior has already fallen to my blade and the King shall be no different.”

“The King is a warrior without equal, Thane,” River cautioned. “Swordsmanship alone will not be enough to defeat him nor put this land in order. Should you be the one to strike him down, the intricacies of politics and diplomacy will still drown you in their mire.”

Sighing forlornly, Thane rose to his feet. “River, you know I can’t fail my family now. With my father gone and my brother an exile, I am the only one remaining who can restore our fortunes and honour. Understand this. I will die first before I ever yield the crown to anyone, even you.”

There was a tense silence with only the sound of crickets chirping in synchrony with the darkening sky. The two wolves stood still, almost as if they were both contemplating attacking the other right there and then. Eventually, River broke the silence. “Should we ever meet in battle out there, I will not hesitate at drawing my bow on you.”

“As will I with my sword,” Thane coldly replied.

“Moon guide you home, Thane.” With that, she turned and walked away, her cloak flowing in the wind behind her. A quiet sigh drifted off with it.

Thane did consider calling out to her, to ask her what would become of them should either one of them succeed or if they both failed. He decided against it. Sentimentality was not needed in this time of crisis. Not too long afterward, a message then arrived from the Den Mother. A Wolf Clan knight was awaiting him at the gates of Southbank. He was to leave the next dawn.

The winding, treacherous road to the throne was meant to be travelled alone. There was a long journey to be had by the Winter Wolf.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated. If you like this story, don't be shy about it!


End file.
